Infinity at a Glimpse
by nightassassin480
Summary: A never-ending collection of Star Wars drabbles that I have and will be working on. It bounces around a lot between universes, ships, and ratings. I own nothing but the story.
1. Chapter 1

**Guess who's back, guys? I haven't been active for a while, but I'm fixing that right now. I promise I'm working on some other stuff right now as well, but for now I have a handful of some Star Wars drabbles for you to enjoy. Yeah, I know some of them are bit long to be called 'drabbles' by the 100 word/500 word limit definition, but I will literally shake my head at my computer screen in disappointment if you bring that up in the comments. I'm probably going to be jumping round a lot with these so I'm not really going to put characters/ships in the description, but I will be putting a list of the ships/warnings/etc. at the beginning of every chapter. There will be five stories per chapter. So buckle up, buttercup, and lets get this show on the road.**

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><p><strong>I. Chain of Command: ThrawnPellaeon**

Pellaeon stood near the end of the bed, carefully testing the tightness of the belt keeping Thrawn's hands tied behind his back. He swallowed hard as he tried to slide a finger into the tight circle of leather along next to the pair of wrists and barely succeeded. There wasn't any reason to do this, he had already asked Thrawn if he was comfortable and okay and was still sure that he wanted to do this, and he had received a yes in response to all of his questions.

Making sure that Thrawn still had some circulation to his hands was mostly to comfort Pellaeon himself. Thrawn had already told the Captain that he was perfectly fine and even implied that he could handle the belt being a little tighter, but Pellaeon didn't want to push it.

Slowly, he slid his finger back out of the makeshift restraint and pressed his hand against the middle of Thrawn's back. It felt odd, being the one in control, but when Thrawn arched so beautifully against his hand he couldn't help but shudder. Walking around the edge of the cot, Pellaeon made his way up to where Thrawn's head rested on a pillow, never lifting his gaze or his hand away from the other man's back as it slid up his spine. When Pellaeon's hand reached his hairline he let it stop, wrapping his fingers loosely around the back of the man's neck. He could feel his pulse quicken under his thumb and he looked away from his hand to Thrawn's eyes.

They seemed to be glowing brighter than usual, and when Thrawn caught his eyes he swallowed hard at the amount of arousal and want he saw in them. Sucking in a deep breath Pellaeon let his own eyes shut for a moment, letting himself push away anything that would keep him from being able to completely satisfy the other. This whole concept was a bit new to him in practice, but that didn't mean he wanted to mess it up on his first try. Finally, after going over their safewords for the tenth time in his head, he opened his eyes and stared down at Thrawn.

"Are you ready?" He asked, finally feeling fully comfortable with his role.

"Yes," Thrawn replied softly, already sounding a bit breathless.

He wrapped his fingers tighter around Thrawn's neck and pushed down, forcing his head hard into the pillow. "Yes _what_?" Pellaeon hissed to the other.

He couldn't stop his shiver as the other spoke. He could hear the smile practically dripping from his voice as he replied. "_Yes, sir._"

**II. Only in Dreams: Thrawn/Thrawn, Pellaeon (or Thrawn/Flim, Pellaeon if you'd prefer that)**

Pellaeon knew he was dreaming. His room was abnormally bare, just a bed and table with a lamp on top of it, softly illuminating the area around it. He didn't even own a lamp.

The two blue men toppling onto his bed, their lips pressing against each other frantically as the bounced onto his mattress was just confirmation of what he already knew.

Their mouths and hands roamed either other, and spit dripped down the bottom Thrawn's chin as their kiss deepened. Pellaeon felt as if the room had warmed, and while he knew dreaming of thing like this wasn't appropriate, he couldn't help but stare a little harder at the two when he caught a brief flash of red when their lips separated just a hair too much.

It felt wrong- Thrawn had been deceased now for ten years- but the rumors of the Grand Admiral coming back from the dead had filled him with some hope. Apparently, they had filled him with something else too.

The Thrawn on top sat up before reaching down and ripping open the other Thrawn's uniform tunic and suddenly Pellaeon wanted to reach out and touch them. He refrained though, if for no other reason than the fear that this might turn into some horrific nightmare if he interrupted them. Top Thrawn licked his lips before arching down, pressing his mouth against the other Admiral's neck. He moved downwards swiftly, leaving a glinting trail of saliva as he licked down the bottom Thrawn's chest to his nipple. As he wrapped his lips around the sensitive nub and the other Thrawn moaned hotly, Pellaeon could feel his own erection straining in his pants.

He finally gave in when bottom Thrawn's boots scrabbled against the floor as he tried to gain some purchase to arch against the other Thrawn's mouth when he bit into the hardening nub and pulled upwards on it with his teeth. The noise seemed to break the attentions of the two aliens and they both turned to look at him, one arching an eyebrow and the other panting loudly. Realizing his mistake, Pellaeon tried to apologize but a soft smirk from the Thrawn on top silence him.

"Ah, good evening Commander," He said calmly, running a hand down the other Thrawn's chest as he spoke. "We were beginning to think you would not show up."

"I- ah," Pellaeon stuttered, not quite sure how to respond.

Top Thrawn arched his eyebrow again and bottom Thrawn slowly propped himself up on an elbow to gaze up at Pellaeon. "No reason to be so nervous, Commander." His eyes never left Pellaeon's as one of his hands began to slid the torn uniform off of the other Thrawn's shoulders. "No reason to just watch either, though."

The words were soft, but Pellaeon could hear a challenge in them. The dark, lust filled gazes he was getting from the two Thrawns were certainly not helping either. He considered just watching them for a bit but a distinct tightness in his pants disagreed heavily with that.

Glancing at the two men one last time, he began walking towards the bed as he began unfastening his own tunic. It was impossible to miss the twin smiles of approval he received in return, or the way it made his cock throb to look at them.

**III. Sound: Parck, Thrawn**

Parck groaned as his head fell back against the couch he was sitting on, his fingers tightening around his cock as he stroked upwards. A part of his mind was counting down the seconds until he had to go back to the bridge, but the internal clock was taking a backseat to the image of Thrawn bound in wrist binders underneath him. It was a very satisfying thought, and with enough time the Captain could have easily gotten off to the image of a very submissive Thrawn. Time was not on his side though, and he needed something else.

He had been a close friend to Thrawn for a few years now, but he really didn't have any idea of what the other man would be sexually into. Not that that was a surprise. More of a disappointment at the most. And while the fantasy of a bound and pleading Thrawn was absolutely fantastic, he knew that was all it was. A fantasy. He needed something else right now, something more to push him over that edge. Just a little something. Anything.

_His voice,_ he realized with sudden clarity.

_Oh Empire._

His hips stuttered violently as he suddenly thrust up to meet his hand. He wondered why he hadn't thought of that before. Thrawn had a voice that could either stop a war or start one depending on what he said. Smooth baritone, sliding out from between those lips could make more than one person turn their head. He knew, he had watched both men and women stare openly when Thrawn spoke. And when he occasionally slipped back into his own language, it was the spoken equivalent to sex.

Parck groaned loudly as he pumped faster, not even trying to stop his hips from rising up off of the couch. In the distance, he hear a light tapping sound, but he told himself it was just the ship shifting and that it had been doing that more often and he really needed to get a technician to check that out and oh, yes. He tried replaying chunks of conversation he had with Thrawn, recalling sentences as if his life depended on it, envisioning what his cries of pleasure would sound like and slowly he could feel himself-

He heard his door open, footsteps entering his room as a someone spoke. "Captain Parck?" A very familiar voice called out, as calm an cool as it usually was.

His eyes flew open and he arched as his orgasm overtook him, that voice finally bringing him over the edge.

**IV: Hurt and Comfort: Thrawn/Pellaeon**

Pellaeon could feel his anger rising with his voice as he pointed an accusing finger at the other man. Thrawn looked equally furious, and if looks could kill Pellaeon would have been vaporized a long time ago, but the Captain ignores the glare and the thick blanket of fury that hung in the air.

This had been a long time coming, and while he knew he may just not live to regret it, he would speak his mind. Pellaeon motioned back towards the door as he began demanding the answers that he felt he needed to know. His stance had shifted just slightly, one foot sliding just a few inches behind the other. If their disagreement came to blows he at least wants to be prepared. He shouts a demand at his superior, and the tightening of blue throat muscles is the only hint he gets before Thrawn snaps, teeth clacking together as he shouts back.

Each one can only be pushed so far, and Corellian stubbornness and Chiss pride keep either of them from backing down.

If Pellaeon wasn't so furious he would have been afraid for his life as Thrawn took a step towards him, their chests bumping as they continue shouting. Pellaeon leans upwards, trying to make up for his slightly shorter stature as his hand comes up, jabbing a fingertip into his superior's white clad chest and Thrawn balls his hands into fists.

Words run together and neither of them can be understood by the other, anger fueling their words and actions. Their noses brush as the verbal barrage continues, both of their voices continuing to rise in volume. Some part of Pellaeon is scared that he may have pushed too hard this time but it doesn't stop his mouth from moving. Thrawn's hands begin to shake as Pellaeon's finger digs harder into the other man's chest. The possibility of a physical altercation seems likely and both men consider that.

They freeze.

Pellaeon's eyes widen as he seems to realize just how close he is to his superior as he gasps for breath. He lowers his hand as Thrawn visibly relaxes, panting softly as he uncurls his hands. They both realize just how close they were to hitting the other. It seems impossible- they were too close, knew each other too well to want to cause violence. But the possibility had been there, even if it was for a split second.

Neither of them think to hard about that. They're calm now, and in that calm they both realize just _how_ close they are to each other. Pellaeon is visibly flustered, and Thrawn's gaze has softened.

Theirs eyes meet for a single moment before their gazes shift down and they stare at the other's lips.

**V. Simple Pleasures: Zuckuss/4-LOM**

Tatooine's second sun slowly sets on the horizon. There is only about an hour of light left, but 4-LOM isn't worried about that. If anything, he was more worried about the possibility of sand scraping along his hard body and getting in his joints. He finds that it is a more appropriate worry, despite it being more of a nuisance than a genuine problem.

He hears the sound of approaching footsteps and turns his head to watch the approach of his partner as he exits the cave behind him. The sight of the other makes him forget about the sand for a few moments, his presence serving as a reminder of why he was here.

For a bounty of course, but also because Zuckuss was here. He had decided a long time ago that he would follow the Gand anywhere he went.

He turns his head back around as the findsman stops beside him. There is a moment of silence before 4-LOM speaks. "Is he here?" He asks, not because he doubts his partner's ability but to see who he will be speaking to.

"Of course he is," Zuckuss responds, giving 4-LOM his answer. He ponders trying to coax a different personality out of the other, be decides against it. That is none of his business. They stand in silence for a while, both standing and watching the sun set.

It's a beautiful sight, and 4-LOM is pleased that he can enjoy it with his partner. He feels happy, despite being on the job. Others may doubt that a droid could feel such emotion, but he was sure of his feelings. He may not know if what he felt was equal to what other beings experienced, or even if the devotion and content he felt towards Zuckuss would be defined as love as others felt it. Even though he knew neither of them had the interest or the ability to consummate that care as other being did, he knew that trying to explain that would have earned him some looks of pity, as if he was some mindless thing trying to image what feelings must be like. 4-LOM cared little for the definitions of others.

He knew what he felt, and Zuckuss had assured him whenever he felt any doubt that he felt the same.

They continued watching until only a few rays of sun were left and then Zuckuss turned towards the droid. "We should head into the cave. It'll be more comfortable in there," he said, and he lifts a hand to press it against 4-LOM's shoulder. It's a warm touch and the droid lifts his own hand to press it as best as he can against the Gand's side. He feels his partner tense beneath him for a second, before completely relaxing, leaning slightly against the other.

4-LOM feels a comforting rush of emotion towards the other as he supports most of the findsman's weight. It is an intimate moment, and 4-LOM knows it will be one he will remember as long as his memory exists.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm posting this a bit earlier than I normally anticipated. I was going to wait until I had finished another thing I have been working on, but i really have not been feeling it here lately. I'm not going to make everyone else wait long so I can finish something else. **

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><p><strong>I. Regrets: Thrass, Jedi Lorana Jinzler<strong>

Thrass glances up on last time at the looming mass of the planet before clicking the communication switch off. He heard a surprised grunt from the side and he looks up from the control board just as the woman turns her head towards him. Even as she glances a question at him Thrass knows that she already has her answer.

They have came too close to the planet. Any request for the people below to move would come to late to be effective enough for them to put themselves out of danger.

He doesn't question the press of emotion from across the room, a faint surge of hope from the Jedi. He appreciates the gesture, but he can feel her own sigh of resignation underneath it. They had accepted the inevitability of their situation a long time ago.

A light flashes red on the board, and he quickly pulls down on a switch until it turns yellow. _It will have to do._ Another quick flash if emotion hits him, this time it is a firm regret, but it is gone as quickly as it came. Thrass briefly wonders what the woman would have to regret. She mentioned something about a brother earlier, and if that was the case then he knew her pain.

Since deciding to help the Jedi save the others at the expense of their own lives, he could feel a heavy weight on his chest. _I never said goodbye._

That heavy weight turned into a sharp pain at the realization, and though that agony never reached his face, he felt a calm press against him. The Jedi's attempts to ease that pain helped, but it wasn't enough. Thrawn had made sure to make eye contact with Thrass once before having to leave them, and he knew what that look was. The silent goodbye should have been enough by Chiss standards, but it wasn't. Not when he realized he would never see Thrawn again, never get to talk him out of trouble for the hundredth time. Never see him marry. Never hold his children.

Thrass had always liked the thought of becoming an uncle, but as he thought about it- the way Thrawn had always looked at Car'das and the looks he got in return from the human man- he corrected himself. _Adopted children, if any._

By Chiss standards, a quiet, respectful goodbye would have been enough. But as a brother, it would never be.

He heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see the Jedi stepping up beside him. They were almost at atmosphere level. There would be no need to keep up with most of the systems once they could let gravity take over. There was a long pause of silence between the two. Finally, as the rumble of the ship hitting the planet's atmosphere rattled Outbound Flight around them, she smiled at him.

_We tried._

Thrass could count the amount of times he had smiled in his adult life on one hand, but as he felt a sudden calm sweep over him, he smiled back.

_Indeed we did._

**II. R&R: Thrawn/Pellaeon**

For the first time in decades, Thrawn is completely and totally relaxed.

The Rebellion had finally been crushed, C'baoth was taken care of, and the galaxy would soon be under the Empire's full control.

They were celebrating their victory, and while other men and women had partied deep into the night Thrawn had retired early to the former Emperor's bedroom in Coruscant's Imperial Palace. The room was just as extravagant as one would expect and the bed was even more so. It was made of only the finest of materials and could certainly be considered a work of functional art.

It was also the whole reason Thrawn was refusing to get up before midday.

He couldn't even remember a time when he had slept as good as he had last night. Honestly, he couldn't even remember the last time he had slept in a genuine bed. Not a cot or a bunk but a _bed_.

Stretching out of its soft surface he let his body go completely limp under the thick blanket. He decided then and there that he would do his best to hunt down the bed's creator, or someone who could replicate it well enough.

He felt the mattress shift next to him as another body pressed against him, a hand sliding over Thrawn's chest. A smile spread across his lips as he turned his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his half-awake Captain's head.

Of course, what good was a bed if you had no one to share it with?

**III: Tomorrow: Larin Moxla/Ula Vii **

He had been trying to wipe the smile off of his face for the better half of the past hour with no avail. Not that he was really fighting it all that hard, but they were nearing the hotel room Larin was staying the night in and Ula didn't want her to see him still grinning like an idiot.

He couldn't help it though. When Larin had implied seeing him after they had parted ways, a part of him had always doubted it would actually happen. Here he was though, holding her hand and walking her back to her room.

"It's the one down there," she said, nodding her head towards a room down the hallway. He nodded, not quite sure how to feel about the calmness in her voice. Was their date really not that great? He had enjoyed himself but maybe she didn't feel the same way. He suddenly tried to remember if he had said anything that could have offended her, but his thoughts froze when they stopped outside of her door.

Ula watched as her hand slid from his and reached into her pocket, pulling out a keycard and unlocking the door. It slid open noiselessly and she stepped into the doorway before turning around to face him. His smile had faltered slightly with his doubts, but it returned when she smiled up at him. "I had a really great time tonight, Ula," she said. "I'm glad you were able to come tonight."

"Me too." She was saying the right things, but that didn't mean anything. Something about her stance seemed a bit off, but he couldn't say what. He didn't notice the silence between them until it had already become awkward, and in a sudden burst of nervousness he stepped away from the doorway. "Ah, well, I better be on my way-"

"You're not even going to kiss me goodbye?" Larin asked, stopping him mid-step.

"Oh, um, of course. Sorry." He moved back towards the door, slowly leaning down towards her face. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt her hand press against his chest, stopping him.

She smirked. He decided it looked good on her. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Ula asked, eyebrows knitting together. "You want me to come back tomorrow just to kiss you?"

She laughed, and Ula became even more confused she grabbed a handful of his tunic and pulled him into her room, the door shutting behind them.

**IV. Living Art: Thrawn/Pellaeon**

Thrawn slid out from under the thin sheet on his cot with a smooth efficiency. He isn't knowingly careful as he moves, sitting up and sliding his legs out from underneath the sheet. There is a certain grace about it though, a finesse, as he places his feet flat on the floor and stands. No one would find that surprising if they knew Thrawn. There was a grace to everything he did.

Some say it comes from a deep narcissism, others believe that it is a trait that just comes from his race or perhaps with his position in the Empire. There was the possibility of truth in every assumption, of course. They are wrong though.

As he walks away from the cot, Thrawn allows his hips to sway a bit more than usual, fully aware of the eyes on his bare backside. He doesn't look back towards the other man, not until he has the refresher door open and is able to lean against the doorway. He turns his head to gaze back at Pellaeon with hooded eyes, watching in amusement as the Captain quickly lifts his eyes up from where they had been staring to Thrawn's own eyes. Arching an eyebrow he lifts a hand to the door frame, discreetly posing himself as he speaks.

"Would you like to join me, Gilad?" He asks softly, arching his back subtly so his behind sticks out just a bit.

Pellaeon almost flies from the bed, shoving the sheet off of himself and jumping up from the cot at Thrawn's invitation. Smiling, he enters the refresher, knowing his Captain is seconds behind him.

There is a grace to everything he does. An art, almost. And like most art, Thrawn finds that it is much more enjoyable with someone else to preform it with.

**V. Encounter: Lapis Sheqoa/Bink Kitik**

Sheqoa stepped closer to the large window, trying to squint through the darkness at the building next door. He had already called in the suspicious movement he saw in the other building and had received conformation of backup if he needed it from his partner in the art museum's security room. Normally Sheqoa would not even be wandering the empty building alone, but he had felt a strong prompting to do so tonight.

After his last job, he learned to listen to his gut.

Of course, what happened next door was not really any of his business. His assignment was the museum and nothing more. However, there were rumors circling around that an Imperial Senior-Captain would be coming to see the opening of the museum's newest wing, and a prowler- even one next door- was not something they needed.

He glared a little harder at the glass and- _there_. Yes, there was definitely someone moving around in the other building. He lifted his comlink and switched it on, preparing to notify his partner when the window he had been glaring at slid open and a woman began climbing out. He paused- something about the way she moved, it seemed so familiar. Blinking, he shoved the thought away and opened his mouth to call in the burglar when the woman turned to look down towards the ground and then looked across from herself.

Right at Sheqoa.

Her eyes widened at the same moment his did and her mouth gaped a bit. His brain tried to wrap around just who he was looking at as memories flashed across his mind.

The festival, the theft, the accountant who suspiciously latched onto him, that same woman the one who he was still sure helped rob his employer blind. The hug she had given him as comfort when everything started doing down the 'fresher drain. It was the only genuine thing about her, that hug, he was sure. And the rolling safe that had almost killed him. His prosthetic arm twitched at memory but he ignored it. While his left arm hadn't been so fortunate, he knew that he was lucky just to be still standing. That, and how easily he had gotten away from Wukkar and the Black Suns.

A moment passed. Then another. Neither of them moved as they continued to gape at the other. The ridiculous idea to wave at her crossed Sheqoa's mind, but before he could even scold himself the woman turned back and began repelling down the wall at a speed that was certainly faster than safe. He watched her go, hardly believing what he had seen, until he could no longer see her. He could hardly believe it.

The woman who had helped destroy his life, one call away from incarceration.

He watched as the syntherope went limp against the building and a voice broke through his reprieve.

_"Sheqoa! You still there? You see anything?"_

Another full second passed before he tore his gaze away from the swaying rope and answered his colleague. "No. Must have been a shadow."

_Destroyed his old life._ He corrected. Glancing one last time at the rope, he cut off his comlink and turned away from the window.

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><p><strong>Okay, so I stole III from a Fresh Prince of Bel-Air episode, but it was great and I really felt that it fit the characters. But the fact that I fit two WHOLE MF ships in here should make up for that. I mean TWO. That is just- that's a record, kids. I am not even going to lie about how much I shipped Sheqoa and Bink in Scoundrels- even if they were kind of just using the other.**

**The original working title of II was 'Beds are Fucking Great' but I decided against it in the end- despite said statement being very true. Gotta censor it for the children, because, obviously, I only have their best wishes at heart.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I. Break of Concentration: Thrawn/Pellaeon**

Pellaeon gets about halfway through the command when his voice cracks, barely coherent words breaking off into a loud moan. He winces at himself as it happens, already preparing for the reprimand he is about to receive as Thrawn slides his lips off of him with a soft pop.

He sighs, looking up at Pellaeon as he cocks an eyebrow at him. "Captain, that was much less than last time."

"I know, sir. I'm sorry," he mumbles, shifting awkwardly in his seat, feeling the cool air of the _Chimaera_ drying the spit on his body.

Thrawn's face gives nothing away, but one of his hands begins to idly stroke up and down Pellaeon's thigh. It's a soothing motion but it does nothing to relax him. He is forced to bite his bottom lip to keep from making any noise when Thrawn's hand gets a little to close to exactly where he wants it.

"Captain," he begins, drawing Pellaeon's attention away from his lingering fingers. "If you are going to be my successor, you are going to have to learn to give orders under the occasional _distracting_ situation."

Pellaeon acknowledges him, but can't help but wonder if Thrawn had ever had to give instructions under 'distracting situations'. He keeps his mouth shut though, knowing better than to voice these thoughts out loud if he wants to continue breathing.

Thrawn watches him a moment longer until he is satisfied by whatever he sees in Pellaeon's face. Looking back down he leans forward, until his mouth is pressed against the underside of the Captain's hot erection. "Again," he commands before taking Pellaeon in his mouth again, leaving his subordinate to struggle through with repeating the long-winded command once more.

**II. A Favor: Thrawn/Pellaeon**

Pellaeon had asked for it- on accident, with the help of some strong liquor- but never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that Thrawn would actually _do_ it. And never so blatantly! Although he doubted that the Grand Admiral did anything half-assed, even if it was just a drunken request from his subordinate.

He wished Thrawn had given him some sort of warning though. As lovely of an image as it was, walking into Thrawn posed on his bed with nothing on except women's panties and stockings was almost enough to give the Captain a heart attack. Pellaeon could still see the look of confusion on Thrawn's face when he had shouted, clutching his chest as he dropped the datacard he was holding. "_Do you not like it?_" He had asked, and for a second Pellaeon had almost burst out laughing. Here was the most attractive man in the Galactic Empire, posed provocatively on his bed in women's lingerie, asking him if _he didn't_ _like_ _it_.

Honestly, Pellaeon was just happy he hadn't came on the spot.

Words had failed him- no matter how much Pellaeon wanted to assure Thrawn that no, he loved looking at him, and he was absolutely gorgeous, and that it would be fantastic if he could never move from that spot for the rest of eternity- nothing came out of his mouth except a few weak sputters.

Thrawn's look of concern had deepened and he almost sat up until Pellaeon had practically tackled the other man to the bed. As far as assurances went, it was a bit on the drastic side but it was effective enough to keep Thrawn there.

Not that he was really giving the other much of a chance to leave- especially when he slid down the length of his bed to press his mouth against the soft skin of Thrawn's inner thigh.

He could still feel those burning eyes staring at him as he kissed along the top of the stocking on his left leg, his lips brushing against smooth skin and silky material. Pellaeon moaned loudly, letting his eyelids droop in pleasure as fingers slid through his hair. "Have I ever told you that you're perfect?"

He heard a soft chuckle from above him and glanced up to see Thrawn smile. "No, but you have implied it quite often."

"Well, you are," Pellaeon responded, closing his eyes and brushing his nose against Thrawn's skin. "Absolutely perfect."

Thrawn allowed his smile to deepen even though Pellaeon couldn't see it, sighing contentedly as the Captain continued to kiss along his skin. "I know Gilad. I know."

**III. Commitment: Thrawn/Pellaeon **

"I'm going to marry you when this is all over."

The comment is so sudden it takes Pellaeon a few seconds to actually react to it, his eyes widening and his head whipping around to look at the Admiral after realizing what the other man said. "What did you just say?"

Thrawn glanced at him, blinking. "I said I'm going to marry you, Pellaeon."

The Captain can't even begin to wrap his head around that. It's rather sudden, really. Although he and the Admiral were not exactly strangers in public or private, it wasn't something that had ever occurred to him. Nor had it occurred to him that that would be something Thrawn would want. He was suddenly very happy that no one else was in the observation room but them.

He didn't realize his mouth had fallen open until the alien smiled softly at him, turning back towards the large window showcasing nothing but bright stars. "You are going to catch mynocks with your mouth gaping like that."

Snapping his jaw shut Pellaeon apologized, more out of habit than necessity. Thrawn's smile deepened just a hair and Pellaeon couldn't help but think about how endearing it made the other man look. He was still off balance from the comment- unsure of just how to take it. That didn't stop his mouth from opening up again. "What if I said no?"

Thrawn turned his head back towards Pellaeon and cocked an eyebrow at him. "_Would_ you say no, Captain?"

His eyebrows shot up before he got himself under control. Of course, the Admiral would already know his answer- and it certainly would not have been 'no'. With a sigh he looked away from the alien, hoping that he wouldn't see the blush on his face. "No, sir. I wouldn't."

"Good." A hand slid into Pellaeon's own and lips pressed against his cheek. "Because when I'm done crushing this New Republic with the heel of my boot, I am going to hold you to that."

The words were warm against Pellaeon's face and with each hot puff of breath on his skin he felt an excitement build his stomach in a way that was in no appropriate beyond a bedroom. "I should hope so, sir," he replied softly, smiling as the star filled space outside seemed to glow just a bit brighter.

**IV. Second Chances: Thrawn/Pellaeon**

Pellaeon hated Csilla. Hated it with something that could almost rival a passion. Hated how far away it was. Hated how it's people glared at him as if he had a disease. Hated how they looked at Thrawn as if he was some sort of murderer. The Admiral had filled him in on what had happened between himself and his people, including Outbound Flight and idiotic military beliefs be damned, he knew that Thrawn was just trying to do what was right.

Most of all though, he hated how cold it was.

It was unnatural, how cold the planet was. Pellaeon was sure that even the ice planet Hoth was warmer than this place. He had worn no less than three layers of that was specifically made for this weather and he was still shivering.

Had been shivering for about two minutes now, but even with the cold biting into his flesh he couldn't force himself to interrupt Thrawn.

Thrawn was standing just a few feet away from the entrance of one of the caves that led down into the underground city, his eyes closed, just breathing. Pellaeon almost called out to him, but stopped himself. Thrawn was just... standing. Allowing the cold to bite into his face and he sucked in another deep breath, as if he was trying to suck in enough air to last him a year. Pellaeon felt a pang of sympathy for the Admiral.

He had told Pellaeon about his exile from his home world. Personally, the Captain couldn't imagine what it must have been like, being forced from his own home, for just trying to protect the same people that made him leave.

As if sensing his presence, Thrawn's eyes opened and he turned his head to face him. Pellaeon didn't even try to hide his smile when he saw the relief in Thrawn's face and noticed the clumps of snowflakes in his eyelashes. Hunching his shoulders up against the wind he began walking towards Thrawn, his feet crunching in the thin layer of snow and ice that covered the planet's surface.

He hated Csilla.

But if Thrawn was really being allowed to come and go as he pleased on his home once again, then he supposed he was willing to give the place a chance.

**V. Left Behind: Thrawn/Pellaeon, Luke**

Luke wonders if he should say something to the older man. It wasn't like he didn't deserve to know or anything. He just wasn't sure how Pellaeon would respond to the news.

His vision drifts to glance at the pair of red eyes hovering over the Imperial Supreme Commander's shoulder and the blue tinted face before looking back at Pellaeon.

Honestly, he wasn't sure how he was even _seeing_ the ghost of Grand Admiral Thrawn. Before he had only been able to see other beings that were strong in the Force- Master Yoda, Ben, his father. To his knowledge, the alien warlord was no more force sensitive than any other being. It was odd and it left him with a gaping hole in what he thought he knew.

Did this mean that any being could attach themselves to another after their death, clinging onto them despite a lack of significant Force ability? Or was it some other factor? The level of violence in the death maybe, or the conscious decision of the entity in question to stay behind?

Possibly.

He fought a sigh and tried to seem like he was paying attention to nothing other than what Pellaeon was saying to him. He couldn't even begin to try to figure out what any of this meant. Let alone why he was apparently the only one who could see the late Grand Admiral. By the looks of it the late Warlord wasn't too happy about that either. Or maybe Thrawn had always looked annoyed. It wasn't as if Luke had met the alien in person, though now he was wishing he had- at least briefly and preferably at a distance. It might have helped him try to figure out what the ghost wanted.

This time he did sigh, hiding it by blowing the air silently out of his nose. He let his mind drift back to the original question, relaxing himself to try and coax the Force into giving him an answer.

_Should I tell him?_

He had first noticed the ghost about a month ago, and since then he had been keeping a close eye on the Commander and his seemingly unknown follower. Of course, he was beginning to think that Pellaeon was suspecting something. You could only blame the breeze for brushing an important piece of flimsi into your lap so many times before you had to start questioning the fact that there was no breeze there in the first place. Luke didn't even know if he had tried explaining away how the datacards that held whatever information he was looking for kept strategically placing themselves in his quarters.

He could still recall the memory of the faint blue outline of Thrawn carefully nudging a datacard across a table until Pellaeon glanced up to notice it.

If the Commander really did not suspect the truth, it was then Luke's obligation to tell him. At least, he thought it was.

He felt himself wishing that Ben was still here to answer his questions. His old teacher did not magically appear in front of Luke though, despite his silent plea. Not that he was expecting him too. No, Luke knew he was pretty much on his own here. Just him, the Force, and the annoyed ghost of an Imperial Grand Admiral.

There were always the Supreme Commander's own feelings to consider as well though. Pellaeon buried them well, but even after almost eleven years Luke could feel the other man's grief over Thrawn's death. Would telling him that his old commanding officer was following him around, helping him in the only ways he could just upset him more? Or would they in fact help Pellaeon get over his pain? Maybe- _hopefully_- move on.

Luke didn't know, and was just a bit afraid of the possible bad outcome. Imperial or not, he genuinely liked Pellaeon and he didn't want to see him hurt worse that he already was.

A frown formed on his face before he could stop it, causing Pellaeon to cut off suddenly and asked if he was feeling alright. After twitching out of his thoughts, Luke assured him that he was fine, just getting a bit tired.

The Commander smiled and agreed with him- it was getting rather late- but he could see the Grand Admiral arching an eyebrow at him knowingly and Luke fought the urge to tell the ghost to mind his own business. Pellaeon asked him if he would prefer to continue their discussion tomorrow, which Luke agreed to swiftly.

That was what he needed right now. Sleep. Hopefully during the night an answer would come to him.

Luke began to turn away from the Commander, but froze as he met those glowing eyes again. Pellaeon continued to leave, not noticing how the Jedi had stopped but neither Luke or the ghost moved. Thrawn held his gaze for what seems like minutes, and suddenly Luke was filled with the hope that the other would say something.

His mouth never moved though and after a long pause Thrawn finally blinked and turned, walking away silently to catch up to Pellaeon.

Luke let his confusion finally show on his face as he watched the ghost go before turning to go to his own room. A million question bubbled in his head but they pushed them all aside.

_Tomorrow._ He told himself, and silently hoped that he would have an answer by then.

* * *

><p><strong>And chapter three is done! I still have almost enough for two more chapters, but after that it might be a little slow- I'm going to go back and reread some of my EU books that I haven't touched in awhile so I can get some new people to work with. <strong>

**To be honest though, when I fist started this I was worried that I would run out of ideas after the second chapter, but now I'm just worried that it'll all just end up being Thrawn/Pellaeon. Not that that's a bad thing, of course. **


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